My Infinity 》Renga

22

Chapter 22- Reki's POV:

There's a lot more people at The Warehouse this week, so many, in fact, I'm starting to feel like it's nearly as good as S. Nearly.

I flick my phone on to check what time it is.

"Oi, what's that photo?" Langa demands.

"Nothing..." I blush, hiding the phone screen from him so he can't see my wallpaper, which is the photo I took and sent to Joe at the sleepover. I actually want him to see the photo, I simply take pleasure in teasing him.

"Liar! I'm in it, I deserve to see. Show me."

"Fine," I say, turning the phone around, "I took is when I stayed over at yours. Joe wanted proof we completed the dare. Hope you don't mind I took it. Actually, now that I think about it, that's creepy. I'm sorry."

"That's cute!" Langa replies, "Send it to me! But why that one, I'm sure we have other photos..."

"Yeah, but I love that one," I admit, leaning in close so he can hear me properly over the buzzing atmosphere of The Warehouse, "I woke up with you in my arms, Langa... why wouldn't I want a constant reminder of that?"

"You can do that any time you want." 

"What?"

"Wake up with me in your arms. Every morning if you'd like. Every single one." He says, smiling softly. 

"Don't get all romantic with me now! Geez, I just got over the fact that Joe and Cherry are going to spend the rest of their lives together!" I joke, still truthfully surprised by the news they gave us earlier.

"Hey dumbasses, races are starting!" Miya calls, and we excitedly make our way over to the rest of the group to watch.

The night is full of many, many beefs between people I know, and people I don't. Miya beats Joe, and he won't stop rubbing it in. It's funny. Cherry has to physically hold his fiancé back from chasing Miya.

"Please, guys," I wail, the irritation of not being able to skate becoming too much, "one race! Please! I'll be careful, I swear!"

"I already told you yes," Shadow says, "you have to get through the rest, now."

"Please?" I beg the others.

"One race," Joe sighs, "I think that's okay. But only one."

"Fine." Langa agrees.

"Yes!!!" I scream happily, throwing my arms around Langa, then Joe, then Shadow. Cherry and Miya refuse my affection. I force it upon them anyway. 

Miya would never admit it, but as I manage to capture him in a hug for a moment, he squeezes me really tightly.

"I'm happy for you and Langa, by the way." He mutters. Then he hits me. Miya punches really hard.

"Who are you going up against? If you're only allowed one beef, make it good." Cherry advises.

"I have an idea, don't worry." I smirk.

Apparently it's a good idea, because after I've shared it, all six of us wait at the starting line to race together. Well, against each other, but we're still together in my head.

The familiar siren sounds, signaling the beginning of the race, and we take off at lightning speed.

Yes, lightning speed.

Through the neon tracks and the high beams, everyone is doing crazy tricks, especially Joe and Miya. I decide that trying to perform their manoeuvres myself would be suicide. But I'm not going to lie, I did do a few jumps. 

With or without nutty tricks, I feel amazing, full of enthusiasm, a fit of happiness hitting me like a ton of bricks as soon as I hear the crowds loud cheers.

"You okay, kid?" Joe screams over the noise.

"Hell yes!" I shout back.

We enter the building with its bright lighting and harsh décor, I'm third from the lead, behind Miya and then Cherry.

I become aware of the intent expressions of the familiar people competing against me and I completely notice for the first time how mesmerizing a skater looks. Especially these ones, Miya with his green eyes gleaming, and Shadow with his dramatic face paint, and so on. It kind of feels weird to call them people I know at this moment, because they look like professionals. Well, if professionals look like a circus runaway, a suspicious looking dude with a black mask, a man who's in love with his own reflection, a kid in eyeliner, and a cat boy. 

Never mind. It's not what professionalism looks like. It's what passion looks like.

Once we make it out of the abandoned building, our group is pretty close together, in a sort of line, with someone always pushing forward and then falling back from the lead.

I glance at Langa, who looks nearly as excited as me. I manage to move close enough to him so that he can hear me.

"I love you." I tell him.

"I love you too." He replies with absolutely no hesitation.

We speed over the finish line, crowds screaming and music blaring. The wheels of my skateboard skid along the ground as I come to a stop, sweat dripping off me and an adrenaline rush coursing through my body. 

I don't know who wins. I don't care.